I took a few days to digest the news. Actually, I ended up taking a few days to digest the hate.There has been and will be written massive amounts of things about Rev. Fawell's life. Most of it is crap. There is no need to recap.
I knew Rev. Fawell briefly in the mid-eighties. I was working on campaigns through out the south eastern region of the US where Democrats had reigned supreme since before I had been born. Much like today's blue staters, the then still alive Rockefeller Republican Party looked down on southerners as ignorant, backward and not to be listened to as people. We conservatives who had worked our way up the Republican Party ranks thought differently.
My boss and others on the team took our candidates and message into the community, churches included, even funeral parlors which I learned had held considerable sway for Democrats for years. A meeting had been set up with Rev. Fawell. I was chosen to go. I still believe I was chosen because everybody on the team thought it quite a humorous picture envisioning me with a cigarette in one hand, a scotch in the other swapping dirty jokes with the Rev. I was none the less flattered.
I have never been treated with such respect.
Here I went, an Ohioan in Virginia to talk about the southern strategy. The Reverend, his staff and I were to meet for approximately 45 minutes. We met for three hours. There was a political axiom that when promised 100 volunteers, plan on ten showing up. I was promised a hundred and got 500, all of whom were ready to work and they worked over time for months growing to thousands.
I spoke with the Reverend periodically and he asked pertinent questions, offered more help and advice and soon started teaching me. He taught me about people. He taught me about rural America. For once, I actually listened to the teacher.
Against all of the then current perceptions, we, as Republicans, won the south for the first time since reconstruction. As a team, we hooted and hollered and finally sat back exhausted. Yes, I had a cigarette in one hand and a very stiff scotch in the other. As I remember it was a long night.
After the election I saw Reverend Falwell a few times and each time he was gracious in his congratulations of work well done and remembered to ask about friends, family and goals I didn't remember mentioning. He not once took an ounce of credit for the elections he won for our team. He once did ask me if I had found the courage to quit smoking and drinking.
To you Reverend Falwell, I say thank you for entering my life and though you may not fully approve, last night in the quiet I raised a glass to you as I had the final smoke of the evening.
This poor sinner misses you.
